


Days in Agony

by theangryuniverse



Series: Days in... [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sick Character, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 19:39:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse
Summary: It had taken Yuri Plisetsky exactly three days without a word from Otabek to grab his bag and jump onto the next plane to Almaty. Otabek never failed to reply to a call or text. Sometimes he wouldn’t respond right away because he was at the rink, or asleep. But he would always get back to Yuri sooner or later with a short remark or a picture. For three days, Yuri’s phone had remained silent, and Otabek had not responded to any of his attempts to contact him.Something was wrong, and Yuri Plisetsky would not rest until he got to see Otabek alive and in one piece.He certainly did not expect to find his boyfriend in a feverish delirium - and in need of chicken soup.





	Days in Agony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissMarquin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMarquin/gifts).



It had taken Yuri Plisetsky exactly three days without a word from Otabek to grab his bag and jump onto the next plane to Almaty. He didn’t care that Yakov had screamed at him on the phone until the stewardess had asked him to turn it off. He didn’t care that a rather concerned Victor had texted him the moment he had landed in Almaty, asking him to give him at least a call with an explanation. Hell, the only call he had responded to was the one of the _pig_ , only because he had claimed that Victor would probably die if he didn’t hear from him anytime soon.

But now, his phone sat silently in his pocket as he dragged his suitcase through the streets of Almaty in search for a goddamn taxi that would bring him to Otabek’s apartment.

Otabek never failed to reply to a call or text. Sometimes he wouldn’t respond right away because he was at the rink, or asleep. But he would always get back to Yuri sooner or later with a short remark or a picture. For three days, Yuri’s phone had remained silent, and Otabek had not responded to any of his attempts to contact him. Not even his twin sister Maya had been able to reach him. And therefore, Otabek had not left him another choice, Yuri told himself as he dragged his suitcase down the street. He was already close to Otabek’s apartment to forget about the taxi. The buildings seemed familiar, he knew them well from the mornings he had been out running with Otabek whenever he had come to visit him in his hometown. Over the course of the last few months, Yuri had visited Otabek regularly, and Otabek had come to St. Petersburg in return. No one batted an eye anymore at their relationship. Not even Otabek’s father, who had been anything but happy to hear that his son was swinging the other way.

It unsettled Yuri deeply that not even his own family had been able to reach him. Usually, Otabek and his sister were incredibly close, and Yuri was sure that she was the only person whose regular calls he tolerated, besides Yuri’s. But when he had called Maya to ask about Otabek, and she hadn’t been able to tell him a thing, he had known what he had to do. The ticket to Almaty had been purchased within five minutes, and he had merely thrown a few clothes into his old suitcase before rushing to the airport.

He didn’t care that the Russian nationals were just six weeks away.

His boyfriend was more important.

Even after all those months, the word still felt strange on his tongue.

 _Boyfriend_.

But Yuri wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He had just begun to shiver from the cold evening air as he turned around a corner and found himself standing in front of the apartment building where Otabek lived. It was one of the newer buildings, a stark contrast to the traditional architecture of the neighbourhood, but the apartments were of a decent size and not too expensive, according to Otabek, who could sometimes be quite the penny pincher. Yuri was sure it had to do with his upbringing in a poorer neighbourhood of the town, amongst a bunch of siblings in a tiny house that had had his best days sometime in the 1940’s. Otabek might have become the Hero of Kazakhstan thanks to his skating, and he might have more money than ever before, but he would never forget where he came from. That much Yuri was certain of.

The porter – yes, it was a building _that_ fancy – looked up in surprise as Yuri walked in, lowering his newspaper as he recognised him.

“Mr. Plisetsky!” He said. “I didn’t know you would come!”

“Me neither,” Yuri replied, not snapping at the man for a change. “Is he home?”

“I think so,” the porter said, glancing at the elevator doors. “I have to admit that I haven’t seen Mr. Altin since Sunday.”

Yuri stared at him.

It was Thursday.

Without another word he rushed to the elevator and hit the buttons repeatedly to make the damn thing open its doors faster, ignoring the calls of the porter asking him if everything was alright. Finally, the doors opened and Yuri jumped inside, pushing the button to the fifth floor where Otabek lived at the end of the hallway. The doors closed painfully slowly, and Yuri’s heart began to beat rapidly in his chest. It had done so the last time as well, when he had come to surprise Otabek with a visit. Back then, it had been racing in anticipation, but now, it was racing in terror. Otabek had not been seen by anyone since Sunday.

What if…

Yuri shook his head vigorously, forcing himself to stay calm. No. Otabek would not get himself kidnapped or even killed that easily. There surely was a logical explanation for his silence.

Finally, the elevator reached the fifth floor and Yuri got out, running down the hallway with his suitcase practically flying behind him. Only right in front of Otabek’s door he stopped, knocking firmly on the wooden door before stepping back a bit and pulling down his hoodie.

Otabek’s apartment was not big. There was only a small entrance hall, a kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It would take Otabek less than ten seconds to get to the door from any point in the apartment.

But the door remained closed.

Yuri knocked again, firmer this time. “Otabek,” he said loudly. “Open up.”

This was not normal. This was so not normal. He knew Otabek, he knew that he would never ignore him or anyone else on purpose, he was too kind for that. He would never disappear without a warning.

At least Yuri had thought so.

Just before Yuri could take a step back to kick the door in, he heard a faint scratch on the other side, and the door finally opened.

An incredibly pale Otabek stared back at him, his face haggard and his forehead covered in sweat. His hair was damp, and he looked like he had not shaved in a week.

“What the fuck, Beka?” Yuri exclaimed, taking a step back at the terrible state of his boyfriend. “What happened to you?”

Otabek looked at him for a long moment, as if he was not sure whether to believe his eyes or not before he leant against the doorframe and rubbed his face with a shaking hand. “I’m hallucinating, right…” he muttered, shaking his head a little. “Fucking tablets…”

Yuri frowned.

“Beka, are you okay?” He let go of his suitcase and stepped closer, pulling Otabek’s hand away from his face to touch his forehead. Otabek let him, as if he had not just been debating Yuri’s very existence.

“Beka, you’re burning up!” Yuri exclaimed and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me? Or Maya?”

“T’is jussacold…” Otabek murmured, leaning against Yuri as if he were the comfiest pillow in existence, as if they were not standing in the cold hallway with an open door right behind them. Yuri barely managed to catch the other man before they could both crash into the wardrobe. Otabek was definitely delirious.

“Alright,” Yuri hissed and wrapped an arm around Otabek, pulling him towards the bedroom. “Just a cold, yeah, right. Just a cold _my ass_.”

Otabek groaned but did not protest as Yuri began to drag him towards his bedroom, hanging onto him as if he were his anchor, barely letting go as Yuri managed to drop him onto the mattress and tucked him in.

“Right, stay there and don’t fucking move, okay?” Yuri muttered, but Otabek had already drifted off to sleep again, exhausted from walking to the door and back. Of all the things that Yuri had expected, a sick Otabek was definitely not among them. The longer he looked at his sick boyfriend, the more terrible he seemed to appear. He was incredibly pale and thinner than he should be, as if he had not been eating anything for days. Which he probably hadn’t. Yuri cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone. He couldn’t call his grandfather, who was away on some kind of culture trip for old people. Good for him, Yuri thought as he scrolled through his list of contacts, trying to find someone who would be able to help him out.

There really was only one sensible choice.

The moment Katsudon picked up Yuri had to hold his phone away from his ear.

“Yurio! Yurio are you okay?!” Victor shouted.

“Fuck off!” Yuri barked as he made his way out of Otabek’s bedroom and shut the door behind him. “Where’s your better half?”

There was the noise of a phone being forcefully wrestled out of Victor’s hands before Yuuri finally replied. “Sorry about that, you know how he is.”

“Keep him under fucking control,” Yuri growled. “Otabek is ill.”

“Oh?” Yuuri sounded surprised. “How ill?”

“Like, super ill,” Yuri muttered. “He’s burning up. I don’t think he even realised that I’m actually here. He’s sleeping now but I don’t know what to do.”

“Is everything okay? Do they need an ambulance? I can call an ambulance from here!” Victor called from the background.

Yuuri sighed. “Ignore him,” he murmured. “Okay, uh, it’s important to get some fluids into him. Water, tea, chicken soup. You can give him ibuprofen against the fever but first check if he’s taken some before. If his fever rises or doesn’t go down within the next few hours you need to call a doctor.”

“Okay,” Yuri murmured and made his way to the bathroom in search for the medication. He knew where Otabek kept it from the last time they’d had too much to drink. Judging by the towels on the floor and an unflushed toilet, Otabek had been on his own in this state for far too long. Why had he not called someone? His mother, or at least his sister?

He found the box of ibuprofen in the cabinet over the sink. It was new, and since he knew Otabek’s attitude when it came to medication – like the one time he had claimed that the deep cut on his hand was ‘just a minor flesh wound’ – he was sure that Otabek hadn’t taken any so far.

“Okay, found them,” Yuri murmured and shut the cabinet. “And how many should he take?”

“One,” Yuuri said, apparently ignoring the completely overreacting Victor in the background. “Wake him and give him the ibuprofen with a glass of water or a cup of tea, and then let him sleep. When he wakes up again he should try to eat something, like chicken soup. If the fever doesn’t go down within a few hours he needs professional help. Keep an eye on him.”

“I will,” Yuri said and made his way to the kitchen to get Otabek a glass of water. His eyes wandered over the dirty dishes in the sink and the rotting fruit in the bowl on the table. It was clear that Otabek had not been feeling well for days. He had probably spent the entire time in bed, or on the sofa, judging by the state of his apartment. “Thanks, katsudon. Now go and tell Victor to calm the fuck down. Otabek isn’t dying.”

“I will,” Yuuri laughed. “Call again if you need help, yes?”

“’kay. Bye.” Yuri hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He grabbed a clean glass from the cupboard, filling it with water before he made his way back to Otabek’s bedroom, trying not to trip over the various things that lay scattered across the floor.

Otabek was drooling onto his pillow as Yuri approached him and gently shook him to wake him up. Otabek groaned and pulled the duvet up to his chin, burying his face in the pillow. “Come on,” Yuri murmured softly and patted Otabek’s shoulder. “Just take the damn tablet and then you can sleep, okay?”

“Idonwanna…” Otabek groaned, but Yuri pulled the duvet back and grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders, forcing him to sit up.

“Take the tablet and I’ll let you sleep,” Yuri said and placed the tablet in Otabek’s hand. “Come on. In your mouth.”

And miraculously, Otabek obeyed, and as Yuri handed him the glass of water, he took a few sips before falling back into the pillows as if he had never been awake at all. Yuri tucked him in again and got up, picking up pieces of dirty laundry on the way out.

It was not that he was the cleanest person.

But Otabek’s place was a _goddamn mess_.

* * *

Otabek woke to the tunes of _Welcome to the Madness_ and the smell of chicken soup coming from his kitchen.

His head hurt, and he felt as he’d been deep fried, but it was nothing compared to the headache and overall agony he’d been in hours ago. Or had it been days?

Otabek slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked around in his bedroom. The mess on the floor was gone, and on his nightstand was a cup of tea waiting for him. Otabek frowned, reaching out for the cup, only to realise that it was cold.

Had his mother come?

She was the only person in Almaty with a key to his apartment.

Determined to find out, Otabek pushed the duvet back and slowly got out of bed, carefully setting one foot before the other as he went to the door, holding onto the doorframe and then onto every single piece of furniture he came across. The kitchen was just down the hall, and it usually took him less than ten seconds to get there. But in his current state, it took him almost two minutes to reach the doorframe.

The person standing at the stove, angrily chopping vegetables, was definitely not his mother. For that, the person was too tall, too skinny, and way too blonde.

And cursing using words that Otabek would have never, ever wanted to hear from the mouth of his mother.

“Holy shit,” Otabek murmured, leaning against the doorframe.

Yuri spun around, his eyes widening. “What the fuck, Otabek!” He barked and dropped the knife. “You should be in bed!”

“How did you get here…?” Otabek asked, rubbing his eyes as the world began to spin.

“You let me in, you delirious idiot,” Yuri said and put his arms around him. “Come, back to bed with you.”

“I’m okay,” Otabek tried to protest, but Yuri wouldn’t hear any of it.

“Okay _my ass_ ,” the Russian muttered, pulling Otabek with him towards the bedroom. Otabek gave up his protest, allowing Yuri to take him back to bed. His head hurt, and he could question how and why Yuri had come at a later point.

“You’re not supposed to be out of bed,” Yuri said as he pulled Otabek back to bed and pushed him back against the pillows.

“I thought I’d been dreaming,” Otabek murmured and rubbed his head. “But you’re really here…”

“I am,” Yuri said and sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling? In case you don’t remember, I made you swallow ibuprofen against the fever.”

Otabek did indeed not remember. But he had to admit that he felt a little better. “Not as bad as before,” he murmured and reached out for Yuri’s hand. It was something he always did instinctively whenever Yuri was around. It comforted him, and gave him the feeling of safety. “Why did you come?”

Yuri huffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked. “I tried to call you. Texted you. Not even Maya knew what was wrong with you. Of course I came. Idiot.” He glared at Otabek, but he knew that his boyfriend would never be intimidated by him. But glaring at him would at least help him to get his point across.

Much to his surprise, Otabek nodded and closed his eyes with a sigh. “You’re right, I’m an idiot,” he murmured and yawned as he curled up against Yuri, burying his face in his hip.

Yuri had never seen Otabek like this before. The man lying in the bed was far from the strong, imposing skater that he knew and loved. Instead, Otabek was weak and frail, as if he were made of glass. And clingier than ever before.

As Yuri tried to get up to let him sleep, Otabek wound his arms around Yuri’s hips and nuzzled his waist. “Don’t go…”

Yuri slowly sat down again, running a hand through Otabek’s hair as he watched his boyfriend move closer to him, holding onto him tightly as if Yuri were his personal teddy bear.

Not the worst thing he could be, though.

“You smell so nice,” Otabek murmured, nudging Yuri’s hip with his nose. “Like a…. like a cinnamon roll but you’re a sinnamon roll y’know…”

Yuri blushed deeply, staring down at Otabek in shock and disbelief. What the hell had been in those tablets that had turned his stoic boyfriend into this fluff ball of cheesiness?

“You’re sooooo hot…” Otabek mumbled, hugging Yuuri tighter. “Hottest thing on the ice…. Ever….”

It was then and there that Yuri decided that delirious Otabek was absolutely terrifying and hilarious at the same time.

This would be one hell of a night.

* * *

Otabek immediately knew that he was not alone. There was an arm around him, a pale, slender arm right there around his waist, holding him close, and a head of blonde hair pressed against his chest.

Yuri, Otabek found, looked like an angel in his sleep. Gone was the loud and angry tiger that the world knew, leaving only the gentle kitten that liked to curl up in Otabek’s arms and stay there for hours without end. Not that Otabek had ever complained.

It felt nice to have Yuri around him. In his arms.

But why was Yuri here?

A brief glance at his phone on the bedtable told him that it was four in the morning, and that it was Friday. Blinking, Otabek reached for his phone, checking it for the first time in days.

He had 68 unread messages, 24 missed calls – most of them from the man that was sleeping right beside him.

It hit Otabek like a punch in the face that he had been deliriously ill since Monday evening.

He groaned and put his phone back down, rubbing his face with both hands. He felt disgusting and even smelled like it – which was no wonder, since he hadn’t showered since Monday morning.

Yuri stirred in his arms and looked up, regarding Otabek with a wary look on his face. “Are you still delirious?” He asked, his voice rough from sleeping.

Otabek sighed, shaking his head.

“Shame,” Yuri chuckled. “You were funny.”

“Oh Christ….” Otabek groaned. “I can’t remember shit. Jesus Christ…”

“Beka, you’re Muslim.”

“So I can take Christ’s name in vain,” Otabek muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t tell me that I’ve done stupid shit… and how are you even here…”

“Like not calling me or literally anyone else to tell me you’re not feeling well?” Yuri asked. “I had to call your parents. Your sister. I had to call every single goddamn sibling of yours and tell them you’re, in fact, not dead. Christ, Beka.” Yuri sat up and moved to sit beside Otabek. “I was worried about you. Of course I came. Moron.”

And with that, Yuri leant over and kissed Otabek’s temple.

Otabek couldn’t believe that Yuri had actually done this.

“I’m glad you’re normal again,” Yuri said. “You’re… weird when you’re not yourself.”

Otabek looked up. “Don’t tell me I’ve said mean things. My mother said I get strange when I’m ill.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call them mean things,” Yuri shrugged. “You were very… chatty, though. God. I sound like katsudon.” Yuri grimaced and then glanced at the clock. “Okay. Hungry? Thirsty?”

“Dirty,” Otabek murmured. When he saw Yuri’s face, he quickly added: “I need to shower. I smell awful.”

“Okay.” Yuri watched as Otabek got out of bed, but just as he was about to walk away, he grasped his hand again. “Leave the door open. In case you feel dizzy.”

Otabek was glad that it was dark in the room. Otherwise Yuri would have seen the blush spreading over his face. “’kay.”

“I’ll wait here.” Yuri lay down again, curling up under the covers with a yawn.

Otabek nodded, making his way to the door. He touched the handle, his hand lingering there.

“Yuri?” Otabek asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Boyfriend duty.”

“Huh?”

“Go. You stink.”

And Otabek left. The smile stayed on his face throughout his shower, and it did not go away as he climbed back into bed with Yuri, his head throbbing but his mind clear as he pulled the Russian closer, burying his face in his blonde hair.

Yuri smelled like home.


End file.
